Writer Tony Russell described Smiley Lewis as the "unluckiest man in New Orleans" because Smiley was the artist who found the formula for "slow rocking, small band numbers" like "Blue Monday" and "I Hear You Knockin'" only to have Fats Domino come along and grab the whole gig. I like Fats' version and Gale Storm's pop version and Dave Edmunds' '70s cover of "I Hear You Knockin'" as well, but to me, the original by Smiley is the best. The tinkling boogie woogie piano and those droning saxes warm the cockles of my crusty old heart. Smiley, you died too young, man. We need you now.
Called by many the "father of rhythm and blues" Louis Jordan (below) is listed as #59 on Rolling Stone's 100 Greatest Artists of all time. If you're like me you probably thought Little Richard's 1957 cut of "Keep a Knockin'" was the first, but Louis' slower, less frenetic version came out in 1939 (and there are even earlier versions).
Man, I like this kind of stuff. I can see Joyce and me in one of those classy '30s movie-style night clubs drinking champagne and listening to a whole set of Jordan's pre war "jump blues."
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The Cumberland Post
Monday, November 28, 2011
Thursday, November 24, 2011
Country Roses
We're thankful for a lot around these parts. Joyce and I hope ya'll all have a grand Thanksgiving wherever you are.
We just had three days of rain and yesterday was overcast, but no rain. Sunny but cold for today, Thanksgiving. We've already had a couple of frosts and the Knockout Roses in our garden are all gone. Even the Mums are dead.
But we still got Country Roses. At least on You Tube...
Bouquet of Roses
A Room Full of Roses
Paper Rosie
I Threw Away the Rose
We just had three days of rain and yesterday was overcast, but no rain. Sunny but cold for today, Thanksgiving. We've already had a couple of frosts and the Knockout Roses in our garden are all gone. Even the Mums are dead.
But we still got Country Roses. At least on You Tube...
Bouquet of Roses
A Room Full of Roses
Paper Rosie
I Threw Away the Rose
Monday, November 21, 2011
The Jag Is Gone
We sold our 2000 Jaguar XK8 which we've owned and enjoyed for three years. It was a tough decision but I finally decided that it was time. As I was preparing an ad for Craigslist, Joyce got her weekly phone call from her brother Larry who lives in Florida. They were chatting away and she mentioned that we were selling our car. Larry said he was in the market for a used Corvette to drive on weekends but that I should send him some pictures of the Jag, which I did. Larry (who loves buying, owning, and selling cars and has owned by his own count 182! of them) moves quickly when he makes a decision. He and his wife flew up on the weekend, bought the Jag at a fair price and drove it back to Florida. So Black Beauty has gone to a good home.
I keep telling myself that the XK8 was just a car, a mechanical, material object--metal, rubber, glass, and a little wood--and that there was no real emotional attachment. So, I won't miss that long rakish hood and the simple, open growl of her grill. It'll be easy to forget those sweeping, fenderline curves that gracefully swelled outward voluptuously just in front of the rear wheels. (Her "hipness" always reminded me of a Reubens painting when I stood behind her and gazed at those curves.) Oh, and I certainly won't lose any sleep over the sensuous feel of that beautifully crafted leather and burlwood steering wheel. The rumble of her big V8 heart is already a distant memory. Sigh.
Farewell, Black Beauty.
Sorry if I'm getting a little sappy here. Guess I'd better post a few of those pics I sent to Larry.
I keep telling myself that the XK8 was just a car, a mechanical, material object--metal, rubber, glass, and a little wood--and that there was no real emotional attachment. So, I won't miss that long rakish hood and the simple, open growl of her grill. It'll be easy to forget those sweeping, fenderline curves that gracefully swelled outward voluptuously just in front of the rear wheels. (Her "hipness" always reminded me of a Reubens painting when I stood behind her and gazed at those curves.) Oh, and I certainly won't lose any sleep over the sensuous feel of that beautifully crafted leather and burlwood steering wheel. The rumble of her big V8 heart is already a distant memory. Sigh.
Farewell, Black Beauty.
Sorry if I'm getting a little sappy here. Guess I'd better post a few of those pics I sent to Larry.
I'm slipping in a little BB King to close this out. You know the song. This version is from way back in 1971. I was driving a Pinto in those days...
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Egg on My Face
I'm up late licking my wounds. Vandy lost to UT.
I admit to being the worst sports prognosticator in the entire known universe. I usually only make predictions about teams I support, and usually those predictions turn out to be wrong. My teams (at least when I make a prediction) lose. Always. I would be a superstitious egotist to assume that my picks have anything to do with the actual loss, but damn if it doesn't seem that way sometimes.
Take the Vandy-UT game tonight. I was over at Andy's Place earlier and made some kind of wild ass prediction that the Commodores would whup the Vols. History of course was against me (UT had won 28 of the last 29 games against Vandy), but that didn't stop me. Besides my own emotion (as a Vandy and a Cubs fan, I rarely get to feel any of that stuff), I based my prediction on UT's 0-6 record in the SEC as well as comparative scores--how Vandy did this year against SEC opponents that UT also played. Anyway, to make a long story as short as I can...Vandy lost. In overtime. Andy, that yellow goo on the floor of your comments box is the egg that's running off my face. Que sera, sera.
'Bout time to hit the sack. Here's a wonderful old Johnny Bond tune that makes a perfect lullaby. "Stars of the Midnight Ranges."
I admit to being the worst sports prognosticator in the entire known universe. I usually only make predictions about teams I support, and usually those predictions turn out to be wrong. My teams (at least when I make a prediction) lose. Always. I would be a superstitious egotist to assume that my picks have anything to do with the actual loss, but damn if it doesn't seem that way sometimes.
Take the Vandy-UT game tonight. I was over at Andy's Place earlier and made some kind of wild ass prediction that the Commodores would whup the Vols. History of course was against me (UT had won 28 of the last 29 games against Vandy), but that didn't stop me. Besides my own emotion (as a Vandy and a Cubs fan, I rarely get to feel any of that stuff), I based my prediction on UT's 0-6 record in the SEC as well as comparative scores--how Vandy did this year against SEC opponents that UT also played. Anyway, to make a long story as short as I can...Vandy lost. In overtime. Andy, that yellow goo on the floor of your comments box is the egg that's running off my face. Que sera, sera.
'Bout time to hit the sack. Here's a wonderful old Johnny Bond tune that makes a perfect lullaby. "Stars of the Midnight Ranges."
Saturday, November 19, 2011
A Bloody Ballad
Union Station's Dan Tyminski with "Down in the Willow Garden." Recorded in rural Scotland, UK.
Saturday, November 5, 2011
Harassment Claim Made by 4th Woman: Kim Kardashian Said to be "Devastated" by Encounter with Cain
THE CUMBERLAND POST PRESENTS A LITTLE FAKE NEWS
Now that the buzz is dying from her financially successful 72 day marriage and the ensuing divorce, celeb Kim Kardashian is speaking out about her "devastating" encounter with Republican presidential contender Herman Cain.
Now that the buzz is dying from her financially successful 72 day marriage and the ensuing divorce, celeb Kim Kardashian is speaking out about her "devastating" encounter with Republican presidential contender Herman Cain.
According to Ms. Kardashian's publicist, Ino Butz who phoned the Post about what he termed a dreadful situation, the voluptuous reality show personality was forced to endure a ride in an elevator with Herman Cain who is seeking the Republican nomination for president. According to Butz, Ms. Kardashian said, "it was the most terrible 5 minutes of my life. The things that man said were disgusting." We asked to speak to Ms. Kardashian ourselves to clarify her charges, but Butz said she was so distraught she had been placed in the care of a physician who would not let her speak to the media. The Post suggested that based on Ms. Kardashian's history, the physician's regimen would be impossible for her to keep. At that point, Mr. Butz asked us to leave.
Later in the day, the Post caught up with Mr. Cain at a restaurant in Manhattan. The Cainanator as he's called by some of his supporters was chowing down on a mess of turnip greens and cornbread. He laughed when we gave him Ms. Kardashian's quote. "What upset her is quite simple, really. I was minding my business, all alone in the elevator, contemplating the elegance of my 9-9-9 plan when that woman came on board. Although there was no need for it, she turned sideways and her butt brushed against me. It was most inappropriate and I told her so. She put her hand on my chest and told me she was attracted to political power. I told her to bug off, that I didn't have time for groupies. She said, "Don't you know who I am?" I told her I didn't know and didn't care. She started whimpering then, and, as we had reached my floor, I left her there on the elevator. As I exited, she shouted after me, saying I was a racist tea bagger. She was obviously very angry that I rejected her advances."
Later that day, the Post asked Cain if he would sue Kardashian for harassment. Cain laughed and said there'd be no sense in it because it would be just another case of "he said, she said."
We asked about the elevator security camera tape, wouldn't that show what really happened?
Cain said, "my finance director suggested that. He's always looking for creative ways to add to our campaign chest and we could make good use of some of those millions Ms. Kardashian got from !E. But when we checked into it, we found the hotel security system was run by a company owned by Michael S'Moore, the famous Hollywood crockumentarian, and their man on duty said that after checking with Mr. S'Moore, the videotapes had all been erased by accident. Seems Mr. S'Moore was eating a box of doughnuts while watching Ms. Kardashian's elevator antics and some of his sweetened drool dripped into the the cassettes, gumming up the works."
The Post tried to see Mr. S'Moore at his mansion in the Hamptons but we were told he was busy meeting with leaders of the OWS in his indoor pool; we were rudely escorted off the grounds of the palatial estate which according realtors in the area is worth 52 million dollars. The Tool who escorted us to the gate said none of S'Moore's money was earned via the capitalist system.
What system did he earn it in? we asked. "The system of the Artiste. Which is a system of the people but is not a system," said the Tool who left us then to ponder that impenetrable pearl of wisdom.
For more satire like this, check out Liberalstein: A Political Farce; now only $.99 on Kindle. Click the link to the left for more info.
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